Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

Commitments

by

`;07.'

By the same author

Twilight Whispers Heart of the Night

Commitments

v v .--I"

To Steve, Eric, Andrew and Jeremy - always.

This edition published 1995 by Diamond Books

77-85 Fulham Palace Road Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

Published by Grafton Books in 1990 by arrangement with Warner Books, Inc., New York The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work ISBN: 0-261667114

Set in Trump Mediaeval

Printed in Great Britain

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopyin& recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being unposed on the subsequent purchaser

Prologue.

Derek Mcgill wasn't a man to waver. Once he set his mind to something, he saw it through. The industry knew him to be dogged and shrew, self-righteous, even bull-headed when an issue hit him hard. Unanswered phone calls and untold runarounds, veiled hostility and unveiled threats

- all were part of the game. He was used to them; they never stalled him long. , Yet, on the threshold of the rooftop patio, he paused. Granted, the rooms he'd passed through were posh, but held seen more lavish rooms in his day. The patio itself, an oasis high above the concrete maze of Manhattan, was. idyllic, but he'd seen his share of makeshift Edens, too. His hesitation didn't come from the luxury of the Fifth Avenue

-apartment or the greenery of its terrace. Rather, he was drawn up short by the woman standing with her back to him not far from the waist-high brick wall which lined the terrace. She was of medium height and slender. A soft whiteblouse cascaded gently from her shoulders, overlapping an equally lightweight gauze skirt that -veiled her in lilac from hip to mid-calf . Barefoot and oblivious to his arrival, she swayed ever so slowly from side to side. The late afternoon sun, tripping over the treetops of Central Park, gilded her blond hair and that of the small child she held in her arms, her head resting on his. He wasn't sure what he'd expected - not that held had an awful lot of time to dwell on it, given his schedule, But he supposed he'd assumed this woman to be a slick city type surrounded by defenses as heavy as her Giorgio. He'd been wrong. She was younger than he'd expected for one thing, and there was nothing slick about her. As for defenses, his radar couldn't detect any. He almost felt as though he should have brought some along for her use. There was something awe-inspiring about Sabrina Stone as she stood in her private garden high above the city. He found himself thinking of the Madonna. With her hair loosely caught into a short, high ponytail from which stray tendrils had escaped to graze her cheeks and neck, she looked utterly unpretentious. He conjured up images of purity and goodness, both incongruous with the world around her as he knew it. Page 1

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

Her husband was a high roller in the game of investment banking. She herself was from a wildly successful literary family. Still, she seemed the personification of innocence, a flower child lost and alone, clinging to the one thing she cherished above all else in life. She seemed serene. Perhaps that was what, more than anything, brought Derek to a standstill. He knew that she couldn't truly be serene, given her lot in life. Yet, the picture she presented was that, and he envied it. His own life was a rat race, a nonstop quest for the story to top all others. If he wasn't on the phone with sources or haggling with producers or assistant producers or researchers for information he needed yesterday, he was justifying his position with management or hustling for a final scoop in an eleventh-hour rush to meet the cameras. The sight of Sabrina Stone made him pause, take a deep breath, and release it slowly and with something surprisingly akin to relief. Over the dim clang and whir of traffic that drifted from far below, he caught bits and fragments of a tune. She was humming a song as she rocked the child. He couldn't identify it, but it didn't matter. The effect was the same, a tableau of warmth and love that touched him in strange unexpected ways. He was an intruder. He knew that, but he couldn't have left if he tried, and he wouldn't have tried for the world. Having set eyes on her, his curiosity was piqued. He reminded himself that this was just another story, but deep down inside, he suspected more complex forces drew him forward. His shoes made a muted tap on the marble tiles as he crossed the terrace, but she seemed not to hear. Lost in that tiny world encompassing her baby and her, she neither looked up nor turned. When he was within reaching distance, he stopped. '. Stone?' Her head flew around then, eyes wide and startled. ''m sorry/ he said with an odd gentleness, ' didn't mean to frighten you.' For a minute she said nothin& simply looked at him, studying his eyes as though they could tell her what she wanted or needed to know. ' are you? I she said at last. ' Mcgill." She continued to study him. One of her brows lowered for the briefest instant in a frown she quickly mastered. '

does that sound familiar?' ''m a reporter with Outside Insight. You may have seen some of my work.' She lowered her chin to the child's head, and he could have sworn that her arms tightened fractionally. Both gestures suggested protectiveness. He could understand that. ' did you get in? I Her voice held wariness, while her eyes held his. Their hold was strong. He'd never seen eyes quite like them, though he doubted it had as much to do with their pale green coloring as with the blend of emotions they betrayed. Among other things, he saw fear; and while he'd have been delighted to see that if he were confronting a bureaucrat with allegations of corruption, he regretted seeing it in Sabrina Stone. So he said without pride, ' tagged along with three fellows who were visiting one of the other apartments. That took care of the doorman. Your maid was satisfied when I said that we were old friends and you were expecting me.' ' wasn't true.' ' know. But I wanted to speak with you. I've tried to call several times. Your husband is protective of your privacy.' ''ve spoken with him?' Derek caught sight of a small, almost imperceptible tic in the delicate skin beneath her left eye. It was the kind that came from being overtired,, or overwrought. He suspected that with Sabrina it was the latter. ' haven't spoken with him directly. He never returned my calls, but eventually he left a message that if I tried to reach him again, he'd call the president of the network., A flicker of hardness passed through her eyes, and she nodded. Derek gave a lopsided smile. ''d do that?, '.' She paused. The hardness was gone, replaced by a hint of a plea, though her voice was as soft and controlled as ever. ' do you want?' ' to talk." Page 2

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

His gaze dropped to the child's curls. As he viewed them closer now and from a different 10 angle,-he could see that they were more light brown than blond. ' he sleeping? I he asked, leaning sideways to see the child's face. One view gave him his answer. The child's large brown eyes were wide open, focused on nothing at all., Derek had seen many a tragedy in the course of his work. He'd viewed grossly deformed bum victims, pathetically spindly victims of malnutrition, severely maimed victims of war - and still he'd managed to keep a certain distance between him and his subjects. But the sight of this child, with baby-fine hair the color of pecans, a button nose, tiny lips and pale, butter-soft skin, wrenched at his heart. ''s beautiful/he whispered.